Conflicted
by Blackey13
Summary: Noodle wakes up in the afternoon... The house is empty... Except for...
1. Chapter 1

It was days like these she thought to herself… As the goosebumps arose on her skin even under warm covers.

Days that always seemed to be half asleep… The sky was colorless… In between some kind of gray and dreary white. She slowly turned her head toward the blanketed window across her room…It was twilight. How long had she been sleeping? She came up into her room sometime in the afternoon. Having trouble remembering the exact contents of her day. The pillow almost damp from humidity.

Soon she would come look back to see raindrops dotting the glass in lines of spatters growing more before she could even count them. March… It always rained in the beginning of spring.

She sat up in her bed, waiting for the head rush, the dizziness and blurred vision she could expect from having such intense thoughts while in her dreams. She looked around her spacey room… At the blue and gray walls, and cream colored carpet. She had a large bed with a giant plaid quilt that was very poofy and cool to the touch. Refreshingly cool, but it warmed quickly. Whenever she got too hot she would flop herself onto the untouched part of the blanket to cool herself off.

It wasn't a very girly bedroom… That was never her style.

She put picked her phone up off her dresser and looked at the time. 6:30pm. March 19…

Tomorrow was the first day of spring. Interesting, she thought… Fall and winter went by so fast. It's a shame.

She placed both feet onto the floor and stood up, with the funny eager disappointed feeling she got whenever she'd slept the day away. She was wearing a pair of blue short shorts and a black tank top… She never slept with a bra on and was mostly flat-chested.

She walked over to her mirror that stood above her dresser as she tried to remember her dream. Though all she got was a blurred image of a screwdriver and a piece of paper sitting on a table. Boring much… She looked at her reflection… Her short wide pale face, long narrow black eyes and turned up nose. Her thick blackish purple bangs hanging horizontally down to the bridge of her nose… She stretched her long skinny limbs and walked out of the door into the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

She made her way down the stairs, careful footing.

She stumbled the last few steps. Her mind began to wonder how incapable she really was. If she could put so much effort into walking down the stairs correctly and still almost fall on her ass… It made her wonder if everything was a matter of luck. She knew she was just being a hypochondriac. Still she wondered.

She entered the living room… It was silent… The couch empty, the TV not on, amazingly. The only sound was the distant echo of rain hitting the high roof-top of their giant mansion. It made her feel safe.

Her stomache groaned. She remembered last night Russel came home very late and brought home Indian food. She wondered if their might be any left. She wandered over to the kitchen and flicked up a switch. A row of hanging lights lit up simultaneously.

They had a very large refridgerator, and half the time, its only contents were beer and leftovers from whatever family diner they could find on the side of the road on they way back from rehearsal.

She swung open the fridge and found something a little less appetizing than what she'd expected.

There was Murdoc, with damp hair and nothing but swimming trunks with his knees to his chest, tilted towards the side with his mouth agape and arms hanging loosely at his sides… Passed out in the fridge.

Noodle stood there with half squinted eyelids, as his head lolled back to consciousness. "Hey, Get out of here, Turn off the bloody lights…" He mumbled and fell back asleep still grumbling to himself.

Noodle stood there glaring at him un-amused, holding the door open. "Murdoc…" she said quite mediocre. "Murdoc" she droned again… "what are you doing in the fridge?" She said expectantly…

There was no reply but a slight whistley snore. She rolled her eyes… "okay c'mon Mirdle" she reach her long skinny arm into the fridge and un-fearfully grabbed hold of his slick wet cold forearm… His olive green skin. She pulled him loosely onto the tile floor… He let her pull him out onto his face like a child pretending to be dead with his mother. He was half-pretending to be asleep… And he was half surprised he didn't care he was being man-handled by a little girl.

He lay there on his stomache with his head turned to the side, the back of his hair messed up and wet. She looked at the grown man laying there like a dumb little kid.

Her stomache suddenly felt funny again. She hadn't quite identified the feeling of hunger but she was sure it had been awhile since her last meal. Her eyelids dropped in an annoyed expression. If he would just leave so she could get something to eat already.


	3. Chapter 3

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Noodle stepped over the jumbled Murdoc and sat down on a stool scooted in to the counter, making her a good two feet taller. Murdoc's shoulder twitched and his breathing began to even out in a relaxed manner. Noodle felt for a second as if she could relate to the ecstasy he was feeling on the cool tile floor. She'd done it before, while enduring some fever. Breathing was suddenly easier and suddenly things were so relaxing and smooth and breezy from the kitchen floor. Something about the hard cold tile and the temporary break of defying gravity. She rested her cheek on her hand smushing her face up as her eyelids drooped in the relaxation of watching him…

A long whistle began to draw out from Murdoc… Her eyes opened as she faught the magnitude between her head and the counter, fighting away the thoughts of cool, refreshing and glossy tile against her heated cheekbone that seduced her. Infront of her was a television remote clearly out of place, and a table spoon… Not the measuring kind, but the slightly larger kind that no one ever uses unless its to serve things like potatoe salad… Russel had probably left it out.

Considering he was the only one who ever used them. Noodle supposed it'd look more appropriate then having to watch a large massive handed black man trying to eat dinner with a spoon the size of a pond lizard. Though it seems like a situation she'd find him in on a painful occasion like dinner out with the recording agents.

Belittling her bravery with casualty she picked up the spoon and examined a little thin layer of frost from where it had served its purpose being desecrated by Russels tongue, and disgustedly flung it onto the ground at Murdoc in an attempt to wake him…

The spoon hit the tile near his shoulder with a ting and his eyes began to flicker open.

He stirred and pulled himself up into a crouching position, an arm stabilizing himself on the counter, sagged forward breathing heavily…

He didn't turn to look at her. Not even to gripe.

He just looked exhausted and intoxicated… Or maybe sober actually, considering his lack of energy and ability to breathe. Could go both ways.

She saw how struggled he seemed and suddenly felt sympathy. She felt the urge to console him at this rare occasion of him not punishing her for throwing a piece of silverware. …Her mind however likes to process things around one hundred times before she says them and as an illogical result her attempt to say "I'm sorry, Are you okay?" came out as "I'm…?" and then an ignored sigh… That was stupid she thought. But it's okay… He doesn't notice. Her cheeks reddened.

Then things progressed strangely as he suddenly came to life like a humingbird from the corner he was slumped in and stumbled over to the counter, grabbed a pudding mix packet and placed it between his teeth and then staggered to the left unplugging the toaster with the coordination monkey with amputated thumbs and stumbled out into the hallway back to his room dragging the toaster by the cord… She heard him fall against the wall once before entering his Winnebago… On a final note Noodle stood up off the stool and walked infront of the fridge to look at the spattering of water droplets that somehow managed to accumulate all over the floor and counters. Along with some burnt toast crumbs a green olive left in the place he had been laying…All very mysterious she thought to herself… All very mysterious.


End file.
